


For you, anything.

by OpalAstrophile



Category: Little Women (2019), Little Women Series - Louisa May Alcott
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:15:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28234533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpalAstrophile/pseuds/OpalAstrophile
Summary: Introspection starting from the proposal to Laurie and Jo's encounter in the attic. Laurie's POV.
Relationships: Theodore Laurence/Josephine March
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	For you, anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone,
> 
> I really just wrote this with zero forethought and pure passion, and I may go back and rewrite it later. This was inspired not only by Greta Gerwig's adaptation of Little Women, but from the many works of fanfiction that I've been indulging in these past couple of days. I hope that this can somewhat satisfy your craving for more Jo and Laurie content. Happy Holidays, everyone.  
> EDIT: I went back and cleaned this up a little. Who knows, I might even add a section from Jo's POV as well. Enjoy!

_If I can’t say yes truly, then I won’t say it at all._

It was done. Finally, _finally_ , Laurie had broken through. He’d had the conversation with Jo that he had always wanted to, even if, deep in his heart, he knew the outcome might not match up with the fantasy living in his head. 

He had loved her for so long, it was as easy as breathing. It _was_ breathing, because without her, what was the point? Who else would he go on adventures with but her? Any other woman would pale in comparison to Jo. He’d meant what he had said. _I won’t love anyone else, Jo. I only love you._

And so Laurie continued walking away from the hill, away from that cursed place, but before he got too far, he looked back. God, he tried not to, but it was Jo, and he had always been pulled to her, like two magnets at opposite poles. So different, and yet, they fit together so well. 

What he saw made him stop in his tracks. Faintly he could see Jo, curled in a ball on the hill with her head in her hands. The shake of her shoulders made it seem like she was...crying.

Laurie was shocked. He didn’t think he had ever seen Jo cry. Not this way anyway, in a way that seemed too private, too raw, even for him. Should he go to her? Of course he wanted to. But going to her was selfish, and after what he had just said, part of him was angry, too. 

So he walked away. 

Europe was supposed to help. It was supposed to be his escape, a new life, and most importantly, time away from Jo (the irony struck him that Jo used to be his escape, the thing that filled his entire life). When he ran into Amy in Paris, he remembered how much he missed the other March sisters. But his pain still ran too deep, and so he found remorse and self-pity in many ways. 

She wouldn’t let him do it to himself. And somewhere along that way, he saw that Amy cared for him. Loved him, he might even dare to say. Some part of him was so crushed that the fact that anyone loved him was enough. It was enough for him to start pursuing her, to revel in her company, enough for him to look at her in a way that she knew his intentions. 

She called him out immediately. _I have been second to Jo in everything, and I will not be the one you settle for just because you cannot have her._ It was so true that Laurie, in that moment, had dropped to the ground, crying. He remembered when he had seen Jo this way, months before, on the hill. He wondered why she had been so upset. She had gotten her way, hadn’t she? 

Amy, even in her anger, comforted him, but he could tell that their dynamic had changed. She stopped asking to see him, but she didn’t marry Fred Vaughn, either. Jo and Amy were more alike than they liked to think, he thought.

Something in Laurie changed, too. He was not so selfish that he would marry another woman who he did not love the way he should. He suddenly understood at least part of what Jo had been trying to tell him that day. She didn’t love him the way that he did. Heck, she had never said that she had ever really loved him. But she had stood strong and made sure that they hadn’t subjected themselves to something that wouldn’t have satisfied either of them. Laurie’s tears stilled. That fact, that act of selflessness, just made him love her more, filling in the broken cracks that lay along his heart. He wished she hadn’t sacrificed their friendship just so they could each have the chance to find what they truly wanted. And how could Jo have thought that what he wanted was anything else but her?

Thoughts of Jo poured into him like a waterfall. Things he had tried not to think about for ages came flooding back, and he hated and loved it at the same time. Her letters only made him sadder. They felt like some false consolation, promises and apologies that didn’t mean anything, because she would never feel the way that he did. He left them unanswered. How do you live with unrequited love? Laurie supposed he was going to find out. Jo was her own person, and he had to respect that.

For Europe had changed him. He was giving up on Jo March.

When they got the news about Beth, Amy and Laurie had hurried back to Concord as quick as humanly possible. 

Amy was all nerves and bottled sadness. Laurie tried to console her, but there wasn’t much he could say. He felt the same guilt that she said - guilt that he hadn’t been there. Some little part of him ached that he hadn’t been there for Jo, who must have spent every waking hour by Beth’s side. That was just who Jo was. He briefly wondered if she would do the same for him, if he were ill, but quickly put the thought aside. Finally, his thoughts strayed to his grandfather. He knew he had loved Beth very much, and was sure to be in mourning as well. 

The strongest thing he felt though, almost overcoming his grief, was his anger. Pure, unbridled anger, because he thought that Jo would have shared something as important as this with him, even considering where they stood with each other. 

When they got to the door, it was Marmee who let them in. Amy collapsed in her arms, sobbing, and Laurie stood awkwardly by the door, until Marmee smiled sadly at him, but with knowing eyes told him that Jo was upstairs, in the attic. 

He briefly considered not even going up. But it was Jo, and with her, despite what he told himself, he could never say no, and so he made his way up the stairs, his heart staggering and his hands shaking. 

When he finally saw her, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. She was sleeping, but she didn’t look peaceful, like she normally did. Her face was contorted, like whatever was happening behind her eyes was making her upset. His heart clenched and he briefly looked away. He looked around the room instead. Papers of writing were scattered around her desk. He was careful not to look at it, because it was Jo’s and it would remain hers until she saw it fit to show others.

Why was this so difficult? He had put Jo behind him already, but seeing her in person did something to him. He told himself it didn’t matter, and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Jo.”

“Jo, wake up.”

Her face, which had been contorted in that slightly grim expression, shifted. He saw her eyes flutter open, and when she saw that it was him, he prepared himself for the guarded look, for the resentment of his past proposal. But all he saw was sadness, and behind it, a small spark in her eye that was always there. Dim, but there.

She was in his arms before he could say another word. “Teddy,” she whispered, and he nearly collapsed right there. Did she know how she undid him? His careful walls came crumbling down but he held himself up. He would not let her see him like that.

“Are you glad to see me then?” he asked, his voice deliberately light, but he genuinely wondered. 

In response, she hugged him tighter and said," _Yes._ " 

Those three letters held more power than she knew. Ages ago, the word _yes_ held opportunity. It captured endless possibility, happiness, a carefree will that Laurie couldn't remember feeling anymore. Yes, let's go skating on thin ice and feel alive. Yes, let's dance the night away and not care what anyone else says. Come on, Jo. Say _yes_ , and let's be happy together! 

But behind a yes, there was always a no. It waited for a while to show itself, but it was there. No, I can't love you the way you want me to. No, it's not possible. No, no, no, no, no. And the words faded behind his eyes as he came back to the moment, back to Jo's arms, and it was so hard to remember why it was a no when he had thought it would be a yes. 

He let himself, for one moment, hold her close and breath her in, and he was transported back to their childhood, when the length of their hugs didn’t matter, when everything was easier. There really was appeal in wanting to stay young forever.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” The apology came out before he even knew he was saying it, but he meant it. And Jo knew exactly what he was trying to say.

She drew away from him now, looking at his face, and they sat down on the couch. “Beth didn’t want Amy to know. And if Amy didn’t know, then you wouldn’t either, by extension.” Jo said it quietly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. He truly wanted to know. Was there friendship so broken that it was beyond repair?

“I just told you. If you had known, you would have told Amy, and -”

“No. That’s an excuse.” He couldn’t keep it in anymore. Not after months of feeling like this. 

Jo glared at him. “You weren’t answering my letters. I didn’t even know if you were reading them.”

“Of course I was reading them!” he yelled. “But I was angry, Jo. I’m still angry. You don’t trust me enough to tell me things that are as important as this.”

He knew he was being mean. He thought he had lost this side of himself, where he’d burst out and say whatever he wanted on impulse. Something about this - something about Jo - just made it all come out.

She looked at her hands then. “I wanted to tell you, Teddy, but I was so…” She looked at him then, her eyes filled with tears, and he knew now that this was about more than him. 

If they were younger, he would have taken her in his arms and given her his shoulder. But she was guarded too, even with her grief, and so he stayed where he was as she collected herself.

Looking at the way she looked at him now, he had to know. “Jo, there’s just one thing I have to say about it and then we’ll put it away forever.”

She tensed, as he knew she would, but she didn’t move, and neither did he.

He continued, “I have always loved you, Jo. You know I have.” He took a breath before saying, “But I have to know. Did you ever love me?”

Jo stared at him then, but she didn’t look as angry as he thought she would be. Maybe she understood what he was really trying to get at. 

She looked right into his eyes, clasped his hands, and said, “Of course I love you, Teddy. That’s a silly question.” 

Her calloused fingertips made him nearly lose focus, but he steadied himself and nodded. It was enough. It had to be enough. 

Jo looked at him with concerned eyes. “Teddy, what's wrong?”

He withdrew his hands from hers, clarity in his eyes for the first time. This was what he could give Jo. The future she wanted. Even if that future meant hardship and longing for him.

“Nothing. Let’s go downstairs. I’m sure you’ll love to hear about how Amy refused Fred Vaughn.”

He started for the stairs but Jo stopped him, catching his arm. He ignored the feeling of her touch and asked, “What?”

“Can you promise me that we’ll always be friends, Teddy?” She was looking at him with one of expressions he had seen so long ago, a conflicted look of emotions that was impossible to discern, but he could give her this.

“I promise, Jo. For you, anything.”


End file.
